


The Lass from the Low Countree

by SKennaArbourBond



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Elves, F/M, Mythology - Freeform, Prequel, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Álfheimr | Alfheim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SKennaArbourBond/pseuds/SKennaArbourBond
Summary: Once a year, a group of select elves from Alfheim travel to Asgard for a special ceremony known as Kentonmen.  Murielle Orloth, despite being a half-elf and from the Low Countree of her realm, is allowed to go and throws out many of the preconceptions others have placed on her people.  It really shouldn't have surprised anyone that she found a friend in Loki who seemed as ever much the outsider as she.  It's hard to believe what could happen in seven days - friendships formed, a young love blossoming, and a long held secret to Murielle's past finally revealed.  But at the end of the seven days of celebration, Murielle has no desire to stay in the golden realm and wishes to return home.  Loki, however, has no desire to let her go.Book 1 dual series.  Events take place before the movie Thor.*elven language taken from LOTR and Dragon Age*
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Loki/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter I**

Regardless if a person lived in the High or Low Countree of Alfheim, the season was always the same. It was warm enough to grow fruits and vegetables and it was cool enough to have a harvest. However, the weather was rather unpredictable though they were only ever graced with rain and sunshine. And while the sunshine and clear skies always drew the residents of that mystical realm out of doors, it was the rain that spoke to Murielle's soul. It connected her to the deep inner magic of the realm and it would always make her feel happy and free.

It delighted her to know end that she woke up on Kentonmen, a time to celebrate the coming of age, to find a pleasant drizzle of rain. She would have been far more pleased to have been woken to thunder, lightning, and a torrential downpour, but the easy fall of rain would soon disappear and allow her and her mother a pleasant walk to the center of town. Murielle had risen with enough time to watch dim light creep across the city with fog enveloping the imposing buildings to create a strange wonderland. Karanhil was the High Countree's capitol city, and it was slowly coming to life as many left their homes to begin working in their various shops and trades.

"How long have you been awake, _da'len_?"

Murielle smiled into the knees she'd drawn close to her chest and turned to see her mother standing in the doorway. She was quite positive that no matter how old she got, her mother was always going to refer to her as a child. "Not very long, mother. It was still dark when I woke."

"That doesn't tell me very much child, as the sun has just barely risen." Araiel moved forward, her long cream dress rustling the floor. "But with the rain coming down, I don't think I can be surprised at your early rise. Did you get much sleep through the night?

"I feel rested," she responded, hoping that would be enough to appease her mother. Both were undoubtedly nervous over the morning's coming events, but there was little either of them could do. Murielle was to travel to Asgard with the graduating class of Linta, the High Countree's best school. They were to stay a week, as was custom, to learn more about other realms and to, hopefully, better situate themselves and to make them productive members of society. At the end of the week, many were given the option to travel and live in other realms if they chose. Some journeyed to Vanaheim, and a very select few went to Midgard. The rest would choose to return home to Alfheim, but the fervent wish of all was to be asked to stay on Asgard in whatever capacity the Allfather and Allmother saw necessary. Despite the great honor it would be, Murielle's fervent wish was to return home. She wanted to return to the Low Countree and live the remainder of her days with people and sacred realm she loved.

"Do you wish you weren't going?"

Murielle was an easy read; she always had been. And so it came no surprise to her that her mother could so readily guess what she was thinking.

"You've talked about Asgard for as long as I can remember, Mother. To see its splendor with my own eyes is something that I never expected and I am very grateful for the opportunity go and appear before the royal Asgardian family." She stopped and turned her attention back towards the window. More people were beginning to fill the streets and the sun was casting its early morning shadows upon the city.

"But…?" Her mother prompted, hoping to have her daughter tell her what was truly troubling her

"We both know that I was asked out of politeness, Mother." She rested her head against the cool glass and sighed. "I graduated top in my class and to not have me go would be far greater an insult than the alternative. I've proven myself to the High Elves and now I fear that I shall have to do that with the Asgardians."

"Then why did you accept the invitation?" Araiel ran a hand through her daughter's hair in comfort. "You could have said no."

The corner of Murielle's mouth twitched. "I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. My peers won't make this trip easy, but then they didn't make my school days pleasant either."

Linta was a very selective private academy where only the best elves went to be educated and trained. As a half-elf, Murielle hadn't been accepted because of her skill but because she was different. She was to be seen as a lesson to all elves who lived in Thyscar, the capitol of the Low Countree, that trash didn't associate with the elite. But she'd defied all expectations and odds. She excelled in her studies and had been awarded the highest honor of the academy. Teachers who had once ridiculed her, praised her and often said that others should be like her. It had irked her classmates and there had been more than one fight because of it…on the training ground of course. Fights were not tolerated at the academy.

"There is also the matter of Father." Murielle looked at her mother with questioning eyes but the unasked query hung in the area between them, forever to be unanswered.

"Whether or not you meet your father is entirely out of my hands. He has honored his side of the bargain and has stayed an inactive participant since the day you were born. I told him that if you were to ever have your Kentonmen on Asgard, what happened next would be for him to handle." Araiel moved from the bed and pulled her daughter's presenting dress out of the closet.

"But how will I know it _is_ him if he doesn't introduce himself to me?" Murielle swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She moved to grab her brush from the small dresser and ran it through her waist length tresses.

"I guess you won't know." Araiel withdrew the gown from its dress carrier and hung it on the closet door. The gown was the color of storm clouds, Murielle's favorite. It was streaked with silver that would pick up any light it caught and had long bell sleeves. Despite the amount of material, it was light weight which would be perfect for the warm weather on Asgard.

"Did you say your goodbyes before you left?" Araiel moved her daughter to a chair and began to work on her hair.

"Yes I did. Jaydine and I had a pleasant picnic lunch yesterday and I said goodbye to Gaelin before coming home last night."

Araiel was silent, knowing full well what was on her daughter's heart. That Gaelin had been madly in love with her since they were children was the worst kept secret in Thyscar. That Murielle did _not_ return those feelings was knowledge known just as well. The worst of it still was that the two of them would be performing together during Halbera, a time where they reaped their harvest and gave thanks for the great bounty. It was a time where everyone rejoiced in the founding of their country and to remind themselves that they had much to be grateful for.

"Perhaps Gaelin will realize what so many of us have known for a long time. That Jaydine would be far better suited to him than you."

Murielle nodded, finding truth in her mother's words. Gaelin was the eldest son of _Heron_ Beron, the governing lord entity of Tyscar. Gaelin would one day fill his father's shoes, and Murielle was no politician. While she loved the people, and strove to help those who needed it, she preferred the house she shared with her mother, and learning all she could. Jaydine was vivacious and loved being in the spotlight. She'd be better for him than Murielle would. Gaelin just couldn't see it…yet.

"Do you think the princes are quite so different then when you were there, Mother?" Murielle peeked at her mother's reflection and saw her mouth twitch.

"Prince Thor, the eldest, is very outgoing and desirous of attention from anyone willing to give it. The younger brother, Prince Loki, I would always see with a book in hand. As if he was more interested in studying than the people who milled about around him."

Murielle nodded slightly, not wanting to disrupt her mother's work on her hair. The rumor mills of the dashing princes was always filled with the latest at the Academy. Those who returned each year were full of stories about the charming Thor and the mischievous Loki. There descriptions didn't seem too far off from her mother's recollection of them. Thor loved to be in the forefront of everyone's mind while Loki seemed more concerned to hide in the shadows.

Both mother and daughter were left to their thoughts for a while. Araiel worried over her half-elf daughter, who had seen much distrust and dislike during her school years. That she was able to go to Asgard was something that she'd fought for for quite some months. All mothers feel as if their children were destined for greatness, but the older woman knew that her daughter would do things that no one believed she could.

Murielle was a mix of emotions. Excited at the prospect of seeing new places, learning new things, and meeting new people. Yet at the same time fearful, for she couldn't help but wonder what sort of reception she'd receive. She wasn't hideous but neither did she have the same striking looks that many of the full-blooded elves were blessed with. Many of her peers had silver, blonde, or white hair, with long ears and alabaster skin. Murielle's hair was black and curly, an Alfheim sign that she was of mixed heritage. Her skin tended to brown if left in the sun for too long and her ears, while pointed at the top were small, reflecting the fact that once again, she was not a full elf.

Physical discrepancies aside, she had a sharp tongue, and refused to back down from a challenge, which contrasted starkly with the docile and calm elders of the High Countree. She relied heavily on her magic, as opposed to the weapons many of them had been trained with. She valued learning and furthering her education, however it manifested itself, while others took lessons on diplomacy, politics, and the proper way to hold a fork.

"Do you remember everything I've taught you?" Araiel asked, placing the final pins in the braided updo.

"I think it can all be summed up into simply being myself?" Murielle reached a hand up to lightly caress the braided crown, trying to not wince at how tight it was.

"Yes. Now it's only a week, but I think you'll have plenty of opportunities to get yourself into plenty of trouble."

"Trouble just finds me, mother. I do not go _looking_ for it."

"Be that as it may, keep your battles on the field, daughter. You'll have the opportunity to show off at the Provings. Save your quarrels for then." Araiel spoke of the event which each elf would enter a mock battle with an opponent and show off all that they'd learned at the Acadmey. She placed a few decorative pins into her daughter's hair and declared her finished. "Did you decide on a gift for the family?"

Murielle smiled. "I did actually. The Forest gave me a seed from one of its ancient trees. If accepted, I can plant it on Asgard."

"I'm amazed you'd be granted such a gift. The ancient magic of Alfheim has always favored you."

Murielle smiled into the mirror, the stories of Araiel's arrival into Thyscar and Murielle's subsequent birth played in her mind. "The seed is protected in my traveling coat."

"I think we might have gone over the top in keeping everything protected."

Murielle couldn't agree more as she made the transition from night gown to presenting gown. Everything had been safely packed inside her trunk which, with a small spell, had been shrunk to a size so small that it fit inconspicuously inside her pocket. She had no friends amongst the others who were going to Asgard and she had no doubt that the teasing and bullying she'd endured at school, would carry over to the Golden City.

The sound of Karanhil's bell tower rang in the air, giving them a half-hour's warning to be at the square. Murielle stepped into a pair of silver shoes that she could tie around her ankle and put on her dark brown traveling coat. After making sure that her gift and trunk were secure, the two set off arm in arm for the town square which would take the young half-elf to Asgard.


	2. Chapter II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvish language is borrowed from Dragon Age and The Lord of the Rings. <3

Karanhil was a beautiful city that sat on the edge of the mountains. The castle, where the ruling monarchs and the highest nobility of the high elves lived, overlooked waterfalls that ended in the Esari River. All of the buildings were almost stark white and changed color based upon the light reflected on them. There was a sense of luxury about Karanhil that was not to be found anywhere else on Alfheim. Murielle very rarely had reason to travel there, so it was wonderful to see it as a spectator as opposed to being there for a purpose. Their destination was the town square where the mark of the Bifrost was engraved upon the ground. Murielle walked arm and arm with her mother making sure that they were standing with those who were actually leaving and not with the spectators.  


Murielle could feel her heart pounding in her chest as nerves assaulted her. She recognized many faces from school and once they were made aware of her presence their expression turned dark and they turned away from her. Murielle was used to this sort of treatment but she hated any sort of hostility that was directed at her mother. The only thing her mother had done was fall in love and if that was wrong, then she never wanted such a fate to befall her.  


The square had been decorated in colors of blue and green. There were flowers everywhere and she could hear music being played, if the great loud sound coming from far to her right could be considered. Thycar’s music was soft and melodic…nothing like this cacophonic sound that assaulted her ears. Many of the elves who were being sent to Asgard gathered closely to the markings on the Bifrost, as if their only thought in life was to be the first to set foot on the Golden City. From her place next to her mother, she could see the men joking with each other and the girls fussed over each other’s gowns.  


Murielle found it all to be quite ridiculous. The self-centeredness of the young elves was normal as this was the biggest celebrations of their lives. Once they returned from Asgard, their lives would truly begin. They would be given occupations and have lives that they would have to live. Well, everyone but Murielle. There was some advantage to being the outcast. She could live free from restraints and live how she pleased.  


“Where’s the rest of your luggage?” The abrasive voice came to her left and there could only be one person it belonged to. “You honestly don’t expect to embarrass us all by wearing the same dress all week.”  


Murielle turned to face her chief oppressor and placed the best smile she could upon her face. “Saida, I can see that time has certainly not made you any wiser if that is the only clever remark you can muster.”  


Saida had been a beauty since the day she was born. Pale skin, silver hair, the brightest of eyes…she was the kind of elf that all thought of when they heard that elves rivaled the glory of the sun. Of course, like most, her beauty ran only skin deep. It was common knowledge that she was vain, self-centered, and did everything in her power to make Murielle’s life a living nightmare. That was a mission which only intensified after the horrid loss Saida suffered at graduation…at Murielle’s hand, obviously.  


“You better not do anything to ruin this for me, you little half-blood. You’ll regret it.” Saida’s eyes were cold and filled with malice. How could a creature so ethereal be so demonic?  


“If your day were to be ruined, Saida, it wouldn’t be Murielle’s fault. To find the one who is to blame, you need only look into a mirror.” The comment came from Araiel which filled Murielle with pride. Saida, now shocked beyond amazement, pushed past them and towards anyone who would listen to her self-centered comments.  


“You’re going to be just fine, daughter.” Araiel wrapped an arm around her and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Just be yourself, and everything will be fine.”  


“That’s a dangerous thing, Mother. You know my temper and I always say what I mean. I could insult the princes without meaning to.”  


Araiel laughed. “I’d like to be there if you did. Both are probably very spoiled and could use a little forthright honesty.”  


A sudden thought struck her. “Mother…are your parents here?”  


A sad smile flashed across her mother’s face and then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. “My family have made it a point to situate themselves in a place where they can observe.” With her eyes she pointed to an overlook just above the fast congregation of people.  


The young elf turned and saw a family of four looking down from a heavily decorated balcony. The ones Murielle could only consider as her grandparents had made eye contact with her first. Her grandfather had pure white hair, hard eyes, and such a firmly set mouth that she couldn’t help but wonder if he smiled at all. Her grandmother had plaited her blonde locks so that it fell just off her right shoulder, and wore a gown of the deepest blue trimmed in cream. Murielle could see that Araiel had gotten her beauty from her mother and her coloring from her father. There were two others standing with them whom she could only assume were her mother’s brother and sister, but she didn’t really care about them. It was the parents she chose to focus on. The two that had forced her mother out of the High Countree, so very great with child, and to make the long desolate journey to Thyscar. She wanted to call out to them. To thank them for sending her mother away so that the two of them could be happy and free with their lives.  


But she chose to acknowledge their eyes on her with indifference. She simply shrugged and turned away from them, taking hold of her mother’s arm so that they could join the rest of the elves up front. The sun was near reaching its highest point in the sky and clouds were already forming. It was only a matter of time now.  


King Ayred and his wife, the Queen Tyrtha, made their way to a stage which overlooked them all. They would address them and the Bifrost would open and the festivities would begin. Murielle had never seen such beautiful creatures as the King and Queen. They wore striking robes of red streaked decorated with a thread so jewel-like in appearance, Murielle couldn’t help but wonder if it really was gold. It was these people and many like them who had banished and outcasted so many to find shelter and love in the Low Countree. While beautiful of face….she was struck anew at how many harbored dark hearts.  


“Our dearest children,” King Ayred called to them. The crowd became silence and the air stilled. “Today you have reached your twenty-fifth year and are to now visit the great realm of Asgard. There, gods and goddesses shall drink to your health and your names shall be added to the list of those who have gone before you. Today is a time of celebration and a time of revelry. We encourage you to learn from those you meet and prepare yourselves for the rest of your lives. Now, say goodbye to your families and come stand on the markings so that you may begin your journey.”  


“Goodbye, my darling. Have fun, but come back.” Araiel embraced her daughter a final time and Murielle made her way to the center of the square. The wind began to pick up, and the sky grew darker. The elves around her seemed to grow frightened by the sudden change, but Murielle simply smiled. It felt like a storm was arriving, bringing with it the cleansing power of rain. There was a great noise and a bright light encased them. It sounded like thunder and looked like lightning and the ground almost seemed to break beneath their feet. A light of a million colors blinded her, and there was a sharp pull on her body. She could hear the screams and cries of the others around her, for it was so strange for all of them. Murielle couldn’t help but feel the wonder around her as the colors surrounded them and guided them to their destination.  


All too soon, her feet met solid ground, and their journey was over. It took her a minute to reorient herself, for traveling by the Bifrost made her feel a little queasy and she was glad she’d eaten breakfast hours ago. Fortunately, everyone else was in the same state for she knew someone would’ve pointed out how “weak” she was because she looked so pale. When she’d regained her bearings and felt she could see straight, Murielle took a moment to look around the room. It was in the shape of a sphere, it seemed, and made entirely of gold. Behind them, the Bifrost raged, the colors bright and moving fast.  


“Welcome, elves, to Asgard.” A voice echoed through the spherical chamber. They all turned to face the one who was known to all as Heimdall, guard of the Bifrost Bridge. His skin was dark which contrasted starkly with the golden armor he wore. He lifted a sword from a waist high column, an effect which caused the Bifrost to be closed.  
Murielle gazed at the beauty of the night sky that had appeared now that the Bifrost was gone, instantly making the comparison in her mind to the sky’s beauty in Thyscar. The lights of what the Midgardians called The Rainbow Bridge seemed to now insert themselves into the floor they stood upon. The lights moved forward leading them towards the palace, the colors overlapping each other reminding Murielle of how effortlessly magic moved when left unhindered. A quick glance ahead showed her that it was quite a distance to the palace and there appeared to be no carriages to take them. A walk through the city would be a wonderful start to Murielle’s visit here.  


“Our apologies if your journey was unpleasant. The first time through can be a little unsettling.” Heimdall walked closer towards them but did not descend the steps to put himself on their level. “There are Asgardian soldiers who will escort you to the palace where you will be presented to the Allfather and Allmother and to their children.”  


There were excited whispers from the girls about seeing the princes and the boys straightened themselves at the prospect of meeting the strongest man in all the realms. Nothing else was said, however, as the soldiers appeared before them and turned for them all to follow. She followed, unceremoniously jostled to the back of the group. She wanted to push through to the front, but decided against it. Now was not the time for a spectacle. 

The walk across the bridge was long, but beautiful. It led them straight to the castle and, upon closer examination, seemed to change color with each footfall. Murielle looked down and saw that each time she took a step the bridge would appear slightly golden around her feet. If the magic that seemed to envelop the city was not evident already, it was made manifest in the structures that seemed to float high above them, and she could almost breathe it in the air.  


The large span of water roared beneath them, a large water fall lying just up ahead that descended into the dark abyss of the realm. As they drew closer to the gates, she could see large ships and small fishing boats. She could hear voices shouting at each other but they were too far away to be discernable. As they passed through the golden gates, Murielle wished they’d tarry just a little longer for never had she seen anything so beautiful. They’d left Alfheim at high noon but it seemed as if the day were almost beginning here on Asgard. The sun had just fully risen and its rays cast everything in a soft orange glow, making the golden city shine.  


“What is your name?” A voice asked to her right.  


Murielle jumped, not realizing that someone had come to stand so close to her. She turned to face the speaker and discovered it to be a palace guard. She was confused as she had distinctly remembered not seeing a guard positioned at the back of their assembly.  


“Ir abelas,” she apologized. “I did not see you there.”  


The guard bowed his head to her, a crease forming between his brows. “What did you just say?”  


Murielle cocked her head to the side before understanding dawned. “Ir abelas,” she repeated. “It means ‘I’m sorry.’ I forget that I’m not on Alfheim and shall have to use the Common tongue now. My name is Murielle Orloth. I hail from Thyscar, the capitol of the Low Countree.”  


“And how, pray tell, does a half-elf come to join this great group of people?”  


Murielle felt her ire rise. If she was to expect such questions before she had even reached the palace she was in for a very long week. “I have a very loving mother,” she responded curtly, before returning her attention to her surroundings.  


They were nearing the city and music began to play; a loud fanfare that grated on Murielle’s nerves. There were flowers everywhere, and many had gathered in the streets to see them. The vendors from several shops waved and called out to them, and she wished that would have the opportunity to visit them all. Her mother hadn’t told her much of what her week would be like. Just that there would be a chance for her to let everyone see just how very powerful she was.  


“What do you think of our city?” The guard asked, following in step beside her.  


“The people seem very happy,” she replied, waving to a vendor who had spotted her. “I hope an opportunity will present itself so that I may have a chance to visit with them. You can learn a lot about a ruling entity based upon what their citizens have to say about them. I only have second-sight opinions and even they aren’t worth repeating.”  
The guard said nothing to her and Murielle had turned to ask him his name, since he had conveniently forgotten to tell her. She was arrested by a pair of dark green eyes and said nothing. In fact, it was a conversation in front of her that forced her attention away from the man walking next to her.  


“I wonder what they’d think if they realized a half-elf walked amongst us,” Cheyrth whispered off to her right. He was one of Saida’s close companions and he as well as Lhoris, who Cheryth was speaking with, often fought over their leader’s affections.  


“I’ve read that Midgardians burn those that they feel are unnatural,” Lhoris replied. “I wonder if…”  


But he was never to finish his sentence. Murielle tried as well as she could but to no avail. A giggle escaped her, her hand instantly coming to her lips.  


Lhoris stopped and turned to look at her. “Something funny Orloth?”  


She quickly schooled her features but there was no denying the laughter in her eyes. “Just you reading a book. The idea was so strange and so foreign that I couldn’t help but laugh.”  


Lhoris’s dark brown eyes stared down at her, but Murielle stood her ground. “You’ll get what’s coming to you half-breed.”  


“And if it ever came by your hand I’d take your threat far more seriously. Now, if you don’t mind, you’re causing a scene.”  


Murielle was partly right, for a handful of their party noticed that the two of them had stopped in the middle of the road. Not giving him a chance to pass her, she pushed passed him and continued on towards the palace. Lhoris was filled with empty threats at least in the public eye. On the field, he was dangerous. While elves are not muscular by nature, they’re agile and quick. Lhoris was the epitome of that. She had to be careful or she would never make it to the Provings.  


It was then that she realized that she had been speaking to the guard and she turned to face him. But she found that he was no longer there. Blinking in confusion, Murielle looked around and took a glance further into the Asgardians milling about behind her. But he was nowhere to be found.


End file.
